This is a fight thread between Flamedeath & Darkrage of Massacro vs Phalanx of Lycke over all the land currently claimed as Massacro.

This is a 2 on 1 fight. Each side may bring one supporter and witness to the fight. This Supporter/Witness are only to watch and are not allowed to enter the fight at any time.

The marshland fight rules apply. Please make sure you have read over all rules regarding posting requirements on length, spelling and grammar. Please write your fight posts out as detailed and clear as possible. At anytime an organizer may lock the thread if a complaint is made that requires the thread to be reread. Unless an action by a fighter is deemed quite serious each SIDE/TEAM may be asked to make corrections to posts involving vague/hard to understand statements within the post, autos etc. These are individually determined by one or more organizers.

Each individual has the right to edit their fight post any time within FIVE HOURS from the time they posted it. Any editing of a post after five hours without the okay of an organizer is automatic loss.

A fight thread automatically ends when one character dies, when a thread has been up and active up to ten weeks, OR when one fighter on either side fails to post within a 10 days of the last RP post.

This is a NO-CONSENT, meaning individuals may maim and/or kill without permission, may the best fighter(s) win!

For organization purposes, this fight's Ten Week Limit ends on June 24th.

The pounding of war drums came ceaselessly inside the battered skull of feline philosopher, whiskers twitched inaudibly but thoughtfully as ears swiveled to take in the stagnating surroundings. He couldn't pinpoint where his compatriots had waltzed off to in their endless dance of observation, although Phalanx was certain that they were watching. Somewhere close, but not in a way that they might've distracted him or anyone else from the oncoming brawl -- their hopes held high as prayer was not tolerated within the collective hivemind of the currently fallen Lycke. It was his responsibility to bring them up again.

The scarred-up canine that had greeted him at the shore had disappeared somewhere, though there were few places that he could hide for very long. If he kept on the ruse of concealment, the Giant was tempted in claiming the land for himself via force. Smothering the cowardice of his opponent, Phalanx had turned to the south of the bank by which his first glimpses of Massacro were forged in the fires of the empire that never was. Pace was steady, eyes were unwavering. He traced the line of the water with heavy paws and a heavy heart, deliberately setting his prints in the sand so that the leaders would have some means of trailing him other than that of their sensitive noses or direct line of vision.

Eventually, he came to where the vast span of marshland water came to a smaller stream, mossy rocks and loamy soil choking off the larger supply of water where it'd seep into the island's mainland as drinking water. The rocks were large and flat and oval - typical for a place with large amounts of water where erosion could take place. It was also silent enough so that he could possibly judge the distance of a particularly loud, charging enemy... Which was also a plus. Vines and gnarled trees were strewn about him overhead, causing him to glance up at the sudden dimension of the shady paradise. Soon enough, Phalanx found himself stepping upon one of the larger, flat boulders that spanned from one side of the miniature makings of a ravine someday and waited, claws at the ready.

The best advantage of this particular strategy was that he was on higher ground -- and while it wasn't enough to make him tower above a large wolf, it gave him confidence of having an edge. The water wasn't high enough to slow them, either, or the mud abundant enough for the challenged to wonder if they would have to worry about wading through their own territory in order to fight. No, Phalanx would relinquish their need for blood as soon as they arrived.

Unfortunately, he couldn't promise that the blood they'd be seeing was his.

« Last Edit: April 15, 2011, 11:30:24 PM by Phalanx . »

Logged

The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward!Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me?Somewhere beyond the baricade is there a world you long to see?Do you hear the people sing? Say do you hear the distant drumsIt is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes

The beast had been watching him from afar ever since he and his followers had entered her lands and challenged her way of life. Keen eyes had caught her brother standing before the monstrous cat without fear and swift feet had followed him as he move from her borders into more of the inner workings of her lands.

Momentarily she wondered if waiting for a direct visual of her other half would be in order but she decided against it, she knew he was there nearby, she just knew. Well not for sure but something inside told her that he was around and she would trust that feeling from now till the end of time. The beast still cared little for the land she was protecting but now she had something to live for, something that resided deep within a dark, dank whole in the ground far from her current position. For that one thing and her twin soul she would gladly fight and die to protect.

Drool slowly slipped down black lips only to string as the largest portion tried to reach the ground, after some struggling it succeeded to splat on the earth below. Within seconds of the drip the blackblood broke through the dense undergrowth of the marshlands. Jaws wide open she headed toward the pussy cat at a slight angle from behind, with any luck she would catch the oversized feline off guard. As her mass closed in on creamy orange and black cat before her she straightened up bracing for impact. She came for him from slightly to the left as her jaws positioning and aimed for his left rump. Once/if she got there she would attempt to bite down on with crushing force, sinking her fangs deep within his muscles. If she was lucky and her bite landed then head would try to tear from side to side in a flurry of flying fur, saliva and blood. If the brute moved or for some reason she missed her mark then her fangs would seek out anything they could catch a hold of and attempt the same attack. If everything went well then she would jump back and away but only time would to tell if that would even be possible.

One way or another the bitch would jump away from him and his rock, bright eyes scanning the scene quickly to get a feel of what all was going on. The over grown house cat may have his fangs and claws but she had her brother...herself. Two bodies and one mind linked together till the end of time, forged in a bloody mess of heartfelt words and emotions.

The dire had melded back into the undergrowth after the initial and brief exchange with the challenger; call it cowardice if you wished but, were it all that cowardly for him to allow the challenger his pick of battle ground? The Hexmark knew the land of Massacro like the back of his paw, it matter little to him where the lion chosed for their fight but maybe it mattered to the lion, maybe the lion would pick a place that he believed would give himself the advantage. As foolish as a thought as that was for the lion not matter would be playing on Massacro's home field, he would allow the foolish feline to continue thinking that if he wished to.

He was never far away, Flamedeath follow a distance where he was just out of sight, just out of hearing range and remaining in the undergrowth of the land where he moved along with ease.

It was as the lion came to stream that he picked up a familiar scent trail. So his dear brother was already here, watching from a far and readying herself for the fight, he had feared that his sibling would miss all the fun and they couldn't have that. He knew how much the blackblood enjoyed these fights, to sink fangs into flesh and taste the blood of the enemy. The trail went one way, circling back the way he had just come, positioning herself in the perfect place for the first strike. He could have followed it and joined her but instead he began circling the opposite way, through the underbrush he could see the lion had stopped and placed himself on a rock probably thinking that would give him so sort of advantage.

He would allow the feline to keep thinking that.

He stopped where he judged was the appropriate place and crouched low to the ground, readying himself. He knew it was only a matter of seconds and unsurprisingly he was right on the mark with thinking that, for the large form of Darkrage broke through the underbrush almost exactly opposite from his position, behind the lion. That was the signal, Flamedeath launched forward and out of the underbrush that had been concealing him and rushing towards the lion.

His move might be seen as foolish but there was a plan behind the madness.

If the lion was looking in front of him, it would be hard to miss the dire that charge him from the front at the same time Darkrage came from behind. As Darkrage aimed for left hide side of the lion, Flamedeath when towards what was the left shoulder of the lion from his point of view, his jaws parting as they sought to tear into flesh. He would attempt to bit and tear at the lion's shoulder and hopefully sever or damage muscles underneath if he got a good hold. If the lion turned to face Darkrage then he would still push his attack, instead aiming and attempting to sink his teeth into the side of the rump that now faced him which would be the exact area that his partner had gone for.

What would happen would all depend on the lion's reaction to being attacked on two fronts.

Sure, they had home advantage and they'd even managed to negotiate two contenders on par with his one. But did that mean they were stronger? No. Real strength came from the mind just as much as the body, although it seemed as if the wolves attacking him then happened to train either one or the other as means of their greatest defense. Phalanx wondered if they had delegated before charging through the underbrush, as well, as though to prove the great intellectual wrong -- it was possible, of course, though he doubted the significance of such dialogue was ever so in-depth that it would make him waiting for longer than five minute's time. Like any good host, they wouldn't happen to disappoint.

Phalanx had learned from his previous mistake. As the small scar he'd gained on his calf be a testament of his foolishness from previous outcomes, his attention dispersed not just forward but everywhere. The first noise broke when the previously unintroduced, bright-pelted 'female' came charging out after his back end. Peripheral vision had its uses in this instance, as well, for Flamedeath did not go unnoticed when he came in second. Unfortunately, the King's only regret was that he couldn't be two places at once.

The rock throne wouldn't give him advantage so much as it served its purpose of a higher ground, as both wolves would generally have to step up in some fashion to reach whatever extremities their salivating maws were waiting for. At first, he focused on Darkrage -- moving his back end opposite to his front end moving forward, just barely missing the other jaws as they snapped around air. He wasn't worried for now, seeing as a gap would be formed between them upon his small leap down to face the true enemy. Thankful that the beast hadn't taken the coward's way in attacking from behind as Darkrage had, Phalanx would grant him a rare smile of malicious approval. This was, however, not to be mistaken as respect. They'd both have to work harder for that.

Plan behind the madness as it may be, it wouldn't make him wiser. Flamedeath would get his hold since he'd moved closer in consequence, but the lion wouldn't tolerate it for long. As soon as teeth pierced skin, perhaps underestimating the great canvases of coiled muscle underneath wouldn't give into his pull so easily, Phalanx descended upon him. His own teeth sought the creature's neck, hoping to sever the spine and make a quick end of his delirious foe. Even if he'd hit elsewhere, Phalanx hoped to bring a sheath of skin with it. If his teeth failed and the wolf bailed, perhaps his claws would as right paw reached to scratch his side, flank, or anything that would get in the way of the sickle-shaped points as they reached across him with no aim in particular. Unlike the dull claws of a wolf, his could actually do a fair amount a damage... So it made no difference what it hit, so long as it succeeded.

What was one more scar to the rest of them, anyway?

Logged

The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward!Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me?Somewhere beyond the baricade is there a world you long to see?Do you hear the people sing? Say do you hear the distant drumsIt is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes

Jaws snapped greedily at air as the lion jumped away from her awaiting fangs and towards her brother. For just a second her toxic orbs fell on him and fear coursed through her at the prospect that he could actually get badly hurt out here. The thought was enough to cause the level of adrenalin in her body to increase, her heart pounded in her ears before the world flashed red. eff off pussy cat, he's mine.

It took no more than a second for the leviathan to twist and face him again, her large paws propelling her from the bolder and toward the lion. Moving like a torpedo the giant blackblood aimed her fangs at the meat behind his elbow on his left side, hoping to get a secure grip there. If fangs landed in position then she would attempt to shake her head furiously in attempt to rip and tear the flesh and muscle there. If all went as planned the so called king would have a gaping wound in a very tender place that would be sure to cause him discomfort and quite a bit of bleeding for several days to come. This would not come close to killing him, that was not the point just yet, though infection was a severe possibility if he was not careful.

Hit or miss strong legs would push off from the side and just out of his reach as they kicked off pushing her forward. Fangs were at the ready once more as she attempted to circle around to the front of him, this time bright green eyes were targeting that 'pretty' little face of his. For once she was the shorter of the competitors and would have a chance to use this to an advantage. A shuffle of feet, ruffled fur and flying pea gravel was the prelude to the bitches attack, jaws aimed directly for his throat at the base of his head. The area was one of the few on that section of cat that was not covered in a protective mane and as such gave her a bit of an advantage against it. Fangs hoped to sink deep under the flesh and bit of muscle there, taking a few very brief second to attempt to worry her fangs and cut into the meat even deeper, before trying to apply crushing force that would hopefully crush his windpipe or in the very the least bruise it. If her attack landed then she would not let go until she had to, no she would use the lion strategy of attempting to choke her opponent to death. All in all she hoped to rip through his flesh and muscle and crush or bruise his windpipe, if she was successful then he would surely bleed and ache and soon be gasping for air.

No matter if any of her attacks hit she would try to land fangs on any part of his body she could get a hold of and do whatever amount of damage she could manage.

As the dire charged, his red eyes flickered briefly to the face of the lion; the feline was looking at him with a smile on its lips. He had no clue why the large cat was smiling; maybe the feline was insane, thought the wolf foolish for a frontal attack or maybe the brute was looking forward to the thrill of the fight that had just begun. It mattered little to him; all that mattered was the outcome of the fight, though he guessed there was a certain thrill and pleasure of sinking your fangs into the enemy, tasting blood and the feel of ripping the flesh. It certainly had an allure but, sometimes business just had to come first.

Flamedeath felt a certain amount of satisfaction as their tactic worked and though the lion avoided Darkrage's lunge, the very act of doing so had made it impossible for the lion to move out of the way of his own attack. The dire felt his teeth make contact and punctured the skin however the lion didn't seem to fond of the idea of him remaining attached and doing more damage than that had already been done.

If he was the lion he probably would not have tolerated it all that long either but, he could still have hoped for just a few more seconds so he could have done some serious damage to muscle.

The lion's own jaws bore down on him, aiming for his neck but, like how the lion would not tolerate his hold, he would not tolerate the lion gaining a hold on his neck. Flamedeath relinquished his hold on the lion's shoulder and pulling back, retreating from the attempt on his neck and avoiding the attack all together.

Only a fool would have allowed the feline to get a hold of their neck and he was no fool.

As the dire propelled himself away from the lion and out of its reach the feline took a swipe at him with its claws, he had almost been out of range but he had been retreating away as fast as he could, he could not quite get fully out of range and he felt the lion's claw faintly scrap against the top of his snout, just enough to draw a thin line of blood but nothing more.

It was nothing more than a mere scratch.

The dire's hind quarter was quickly angled to prepare for the next attack before he launched himself back into the fray. As Darkrage went into attack the lions left side, Flamedeath went in aiming for the brute's right side attempting to sink his teeth into the transversus abdominis muscles just above the belly and in front of the cat's right thigh. If he succeeded he would then pull his head back in an attempt to rip and tear out a chunk of muscle which would cause a lot of pain, serious bleeding and, leave a gaping hole that would probably scar. Whether he succeeded or, not; he would dart away from the lion's side, retreating until he was behind the feline before turning and twisting his body so he once again was facing the direction of the lion. Muscle would bunch before the dire launched himself once again at the lion. Jaws parted once more as he aimed to clamp them down and puncture deeply into muscles at the back of the lion's hind right leg above the hock, if his attempt at doing so was successful he would keep his hold attempting to prevent the lion from moving unless the lion wished to cause the dire's fangs to tear the muscle further. If not then there was always next time.

Flamedeath and Darkrage were like mirror images, it was all part of the dance.

Perhaps they were more accustomed to that of fighting their own kind, seeing as they were perfectly content in attacking him as one. This equality did not go unnoticed by the singular assailant however, and was flattered at first, his wounded shoulder bleeding through as a testament that the superficial puncture wounds the wolf had hoped to mortally damage could not be taken down so easily. Of course, Phalanx was far from invincible. He wasn't. He'd lost his share of battles, skirmishes, and debates. It was simply a matter of where and when to attack, compared to the headlong arrival of gnashing fangs and gums. Until the 'mirror images' realized that, and soon, there could be no triumph for their dying home.

Naturally, he wouldn't get a hold on the male's spine as originally intended. In a mild second of disappointment, though, his focus turned back towards the fight and at the circling, simple minded beasts who fancied themselves intellectuals. His peripheral vision caused from his slightly turned head from bearing down had caught Darkrage coming up from his left side, though, and twisted when she reached for roughly where his elbow was. She continued moving up his side, however, reaching for some exposed area of his throat. To counter this, Philosopher thrust his head to the opposite side and let her teeth get a good hold into his thick, wiry mane that would both seek to irritate as well as hold her there if she continued an assault towards flesh... Knowing that she would either have to move or keep trying to do any further damage.

From there, with the bitch connected as a tumor at his neck, his next move was to lunge away from the other wolf skirting his right side. Even if Flamedeath had got his target, it wouldn't guarantee a muscle coming with it for his teeth would have to bear into the outer sheathing of the obliques. Only then would the wolf have any chance in gutting him like common prey, except Phalanx's legs would have to be broken for that.

This would cause his attacks to be off-mark and both to miss if he followed through, as they would depend on his form being more stationary and distracted than a continuously fluid, dynamic shape. Sure, he was dragging another wolf in the process (if she was still clinging on), but he could still impress at how fast he could be. Surprisingly fast. While not as swift as a cheetah or sinewy as a wolf, the tank served his purpose in stamina and small bursts of concentrated energy that, when fired, could have a terrible consequence on all parties at the other end. It was there, when he'd gained enough distance, turn widely and fire at Flamedeath. If he went left, the lion would go left. If he would go right, the shadow would follow. Anywhere, Phalanx was determined to face him head-on whether he had a wolf chewing at his mane or not. If he did get close enough to smell the breath of the filthy beast, Phalanx would thrust forward and attempt to slash his right side with the same paw. If that failed by degrees, he would continue to barrel the rest of his massive frame into him and let his weight do the talking as all paws came thundering down. If not, he'd turn again in whichever direction the male turned towards and re-assess the situation.

As for Darkrage, if she was on him or off, wouldn't matter. He'd focus on only one of them at a time.

« Last Edit: May 11, 2011, 12:22:02 AM by Phalanx . »

Logged

The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward!Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me?Somewhere beyond the baricade is there a world you long to see?Do you hear the people sing? Say do you hear the distant drumsIt is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes

This fight has been paused due to concerns brought up with the Marshland Team.

The Marshland Team has discussed the matter at hand and arrived at a conclusion, which was sent over to Darkrage.The fight may now continue~If there are any questions or concerns, please feel free to bring them up with any one of the Marshland Organizers.

I can assure you that the discussions were completely unbiased, if anything clarity was all that was needed, but you're free to express your opinion.

Since Massacro has decided to forfeit, I declare Lycke the winner. Please provide Vana with the name of your board as well as the name of the Alpha account you're using and she will have your board up as soon as possible, only then will your Grace Period start. Congradulations!

Also, if you require any sub-boards then read this thread, follow the instructions, and Vana will provide that for you as well.